A trail of bread crumbs to the witches house,
through the forest that haunted that strange little town.
she was never quite loved-
that lone confectioner.
pushed to the outskirts
by those that live for white picket fences
and the grass growing green and even.
When the authorities came by,
they found two kids, fat and happy,
but not by the hand of the woman.
There was no cage in the house made of sugar;
for what sweetened cage could hold a child?
No, the once fragile and beautiful house
that glittered like spun glass,
sat eaten and worn at the loss of her owner
for little old ladies do not devour children,
but children will kill for candy.
The rabbit and the hole.
Like puzzle pieces left out in the rain.
Ex-communication leads to excommunication.
This is your brain on drugs.
suck the marrow dry.
the offer a pause,
as though we had ever begun to play.
Like a claustrophobic masochist,
leasing out a shoebox.
I want in for good.
I want out for life.
Lets play hide,
all the seekers are dead.
Courtney help I've cut myself
Courtney help me I'm bleeding
Courtney help me they're watching me (they're touching me)
will they ever stop their complaining (they're making me feel //:lostlostlost:// again )
Courtney I've sliced myself open (i'm so sorry)
my thighs and my arms and my chest
(strawberry hipbone carvings and wavy line sketchings on ivory pale parchment;
little lines in the spaces between my ribs)
help they're taking you away from me
(i am a secretArtist and my tools are silverShine and i draw with whiteBony hands)
my mind can't rest
courtney come helpme
they bring back the voices in my head
and i hope you know you're the only reason
(i try so hard not to)
i'm not already dead
(and i don't want to die because i'm not finished yet)
(i'm not finished with you)
are there trigger warnings on this site or
(Tue, Dec 3 at 7:13 am; )
((carride; half an hour to high school solemnly with your father who teaches there;
sing the Frozen soundtrack too loudly and slightly off-pitch with your headphones on
and daydream of her
while you shiver violently because there's no heating system in that old white volvo))
I'll laugh and say "the cold never bothered me anyway"
but it does and without you i'm frozen long after the light of day
(Sat, Dec 7, 4:46am)
((i was daydreaming and i never even finished my sentence.
i couldn't stop listening to Your Lips Are Red by St. Vincent.))
Your lips are pink
Your lips are pink from all the sweet words that you speak.
My face is drawn
(Sat, Dec 7 6:41am)
((the idea came to me like it was sung to me by some unknown voice, or whispered to me
it felt like much too strong of a suggestion to only be an idea
sort of an odd notion to receive while eating Nutella out of the jar with a spoon))
there are cafes in Edinburgh calling your name
(Sat, Dec 7 5:59pm )
((i'm not sure but i think the first line is Hole lyrics))
sugar comes from her arteries
pink and awaiting
(Sun, Dec 8 9:10am)
i want to lie with you quietly and feel you breathing
and make shapes together out of the shadows the daylight makes upon the crackle ceiling in my room
(Sun, Dec 8 5:54pm)
Fall into an endless abyss of you,
and fade forever
(Sun, Dec 8 7:28pm)
((i listened to too much of the Sweeney Todd soundtrack and most days the only line i really like out of "Pretty Women" is 'how they make a man sing proof of heaven, as you're living' but that day it wasn't))
A castle made of smoke and ash
that squashes the cloud and makes it rain
a black and gray that falls
when clean snow was meant to come.
The floors are ash
and the walls are ash
and the windows are blackened with smoke.
There was a lady in white
she's now an old crone in tattered gray rags
who stares through the floor
because the window's aren't worth cleaning anymore.
Her hair hangs o'er the drawbridge
and down cloud
and sometimes it shakes
and you can see the white like electricity
even through the gray.
Well I guess this is really the end
You couldn't even say goodbye
Nothing from you
You leave me with closure
But I know your heart is still wide open
Sorry that I couldn't give you what you wanted
I'm too afraid
And your to ashamed to see what you have done to me
Too many tears
Too many fights for me
I think it is about time I put up the white flag
I'm done playing this mind game
Roses aren't red
Violets aren't blue
Because theres no more color
In a world without you
- weak -
9 pm terribly.
this lump in my throat.
this lump in my throat.
icicle grass cracked beneath my feet.
i wanted to take off my boots and feel the ice between my toes.
- weaker -
walking home heavyheadedheavyeyed from work.
missed. wished i could call.
but my fingers were too cold to find my phone.
ran home so i could feel my heart pumping rough against my chest again.
- weakest -
snowing nightmares outside
i'll walk naked in the white streets.
feel each snowflake melt on my ice body.
lie in glass grass and laugh at my teary cheeks.
where did she go off to?
Hunting easter eggs in December,
and yet they seek me out instead.
i never find them at my pace;
standing, drunk, outside familiar
bars in the cold, randomly
dialing number combinations
to hear whispers or silences.
Radio wave transmigrations
they are, a look to the
past, a nod to the future,
a moment in stasis
where the keypad blurs,
doubles, focuses, blurs,
and i am lost one more time.
clearly static, the white noise
of separation, the
bro ke n
perfectly human, but alone.
I will take the Son of God to a Shell gas station
I will feel the deceit of paint on a white picket fence
I will tell your father about the ad hominem fallacy
I will show up to a busy hospital for no reason
I will send baskets of flowers to all the nurses
We can take our child on the public city bus
We can feel the heat of an exothermic reaction
We can tell Reader’s Digest about our refined taste buds
We can show Alton Brown a couple of recipes for finance
We can let him choose the one that tastes the best
You should break my nose for only one dollar
You should kneel to no man, woman, or Oscar Wilde
You should spell out how to use an Oxford comma
You should throw a party celebrating the use of libraries
You should invite people to drink excessive volumes of vulgarities
I am falling on a sword that seems romantic at most
I am falling down the stairs to get to a peaceful bottom
I am falling with a freedom that reminds me of Tom Petty
I am falling for a beauty never seen with prescription sunglasses
I am falling into Eden with an apple meant for Eve